


An Old Tattoo

by AshesTheTerrible



Series: Family Photo [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bathroom Sex, Blind Date, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Implied Pregnancy, Knotting, Love, Lovers, M/M, Mates, Omega Lance (Voltron), One Night Stands, Rough Sex, Tattoos, dating apps, domestic life, parenting, tramp stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: The tattoo is aged now, ink faded, colors years old. It's a time stamp from another phase of Lance's life, a postcard from his past. He was a different Omega then, lust drunk and wild...until he'd met Shiro.Shiro changed everything.Day 4 of the Shance Support Squad Doodles/Drabbles week! Prompt: blind date/fake dating.





	An Old Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> Another installment on this lovely little ride we are on! A little tale of old tattoos and wild lovers.

The little girl’s tiny, two year old form was dead weight in Shiro’s arms. Her little fingers, always reaching and exploring were slack, her breathing soft and heavy as she slumbered against the Alpha’s comforting warmth. She’d had an active evening, getting both of her parent’s full attention with the older girl’s being absent from the home. That meant a full evening, just the three of them and her little body was exhausted with the excitement of it all. A full belly was the thing that had ultimately done her in. Truthfully Shiro was feeling a bit of the same way. Lance’s shrimp Alfredo was a legend under their roof and the two helpings that sat in the big man’s stomach had his eyes drooping just the slightest bit. 

Shiro very slowly wiped down the table with a wet cloth, juggling the sleeping child carefully. It wasn’t like much was going to wake her now. The two year old would be dead to the world until six o'clock sharp the next morning. 

Shiro’s eyes flicked across the room, watching as Lance casually paced from one end of the kitchen to the other, cellphone pressed to his ear. 

“So they were good? No meltdowns? Did Lilly brush her teeth?” Lance asked. 

Shiro could make out Hunk’s voice on the other end of the line. 

“She did, and without a fuss I might ad. They are doing great Lance I promise.” Hunk laughed. 

Lance sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Shiro chuckled as he deposited the dirty rag into the sink. 

The two girls were at a sleepover at their dear friend’s house. Keith and Hunk had a five year old little girl, whom Arith and Lilly had become fast friends with. But this was the first time the two had ever spent the night away from the home at any place that wasn’t Lance’s parent’s residence. Lance was nervous, and the expression was endearing on his thin face. 

Shiro smiled as he crossed the room, kissing Lance’s cheek before whispering that he was going to put Taylor down for bed. Lance nodded, still clinging to his phone tightly. He’d need several more reassurances from Hunk before he was convinced the girls didn’t need him to hop into the car and go get them right there and then. 

When Shiro returned Lance had finally hung up with the other man and was busying himself with the dishes that were stacked in the sink. Shiro lent the thin man a little grin. 

“Don’t worry so much babe.” Shiro said as he sashayed over to the other man. 

Lance huffed out, elbow deep in the suds. 

“I know. I know.” Lance griped. 

“Taylor’s all tucked in?” Lance asked quickly. 

The Omega was going to worry himself into a hissy if Shiro didn’t calm him now. The Alpha plucked a cup out of the belly of the water and began washing it carefully.

“She is. She’s getting so big, my arm was falling asleep.” Shiro laughed. 

This drug a short little giggle out of Lance’s depths. 

“I know. She’s going to be like you. Big as a stinking house.” Lance quipped with a cheeky half smile. 

Shiro grinned and carefully dried the glass before setting it down on the countertop. His eyes softened as he watched his partner, amused with the way he was moving so stiffly. He was sure the Omega was running through a laundry list of things he was worried about with the girls being gone. Had he forgotten to pack something? What if Arith had a nightmare? 

Lance leaned forward, bending over the sink, brows knitted together in worry. Shiro could just see the wheels turning in the slighter man’s head. As Lance moved, the hem of his cropped shirt slid up his form, allowing the small of his back to peek out. Carved into the beautiful caramel flesh was the old, faded ink that brought a devious smile to the Alpha’s lips. The colors were dull now, the artwork age old, coming from a different time…a different place in Lance’s life. The blue lion was settled amongst the stars, right at the bottom of Lance’s spine, having witnessed so much over the years. He remembered Lance having mentioned it was a stupid idea, having the work done in a friend’s kitchen with a home tattoo kit. He’d mentioned getting it removed, or covered up several times but Shiro always managed to talk him out of it. 

The little thing brought back memories. 

Old ones, good ones, hot ones. 

Shiro’s human fingers reached out, ghosting along the lines of the aged tattoo, thumb swiping the lion’s pretty, intense eyes. Lance jolted at the slight touch form his partner, so lost within his thoughts that the contact of Shiro’s digits startled him. 

The Omega looked back over his shoulder, watching as Shiro’s expression shifted, recollecting the old reminiscences the blue ink brought with a fond little smile. 

“I remember the first time I saw your tattoo.” Shiro threw the sentence out there playfully. 

Lance groaned, low and exasperated. 

“I wish you didn’t.” Lance huffed as he pouted playfully. 

Shiro chuckled deeply. 

“Oh but  _ baby  _ how could I forget? It’s one of my favorite memories.” Shiro argued as he playfully wrapped his arms Lance from behind, groin pressed flush to Lance’s rear. 

“We fucked in a bathroom stall. I was a goddamned  _ mess _ .” Lance complained as he attempted to continue washing the kitchenware.

Shiro nuzzled his nose against the nape of Lance’s neck, the soft little hairs tickling against his skin. His big arms encircled the slighter man, palms spread out over the Omega’s stomach. 

“The most beautiful mess I’d ever fucking seen.” Shiro giggled as he kissed Lance’s exposed collar, the hem of his shirt sliding down to allow caramel skin to peer out. 

Lance sighed. 

“I’m pretty sure I’d been drunk for three days and smelled like a bar. I can’t believe you even touched me, much less put your dick in me.” Lance snarled. 

He had been face first in the roughest stage of his life when he and Shiro had collided, something he wasn’t exactly proud of looking back on it. 

Shiro laughed even harder then. 

“I took one look at you and just thought, oh yeah I’m going to have  _ so  _ many babies with that pretty thing.” Shiro snorted.

Lance made an exasperated sound.

“Shiro  _ stoppp! _ You’re so gross.” Lance whined. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

It had all started with a godforsaken app. Lance had downloaded it on a whim. He liked the thrill it offered up. Users would join, creating stupid little nicknames to keep their real identities hidden behind careful curtains. Lance was BlueBoy69. He figured it was just cringe worthy and playful enough for him to gather some attention. Or at least the type of attention he was hunting for, he was certain of that. There were no pictures involved. That was against the rules. There was only a list of questions over a person’s preferences upon signing up and the site would match you with potential interests. Everyone went in blind and Lance loved the way it got his heart racing. He liked the chime of a new message when it graced his phone. He liked the thrill of talking with the anonymous suitor over what all they’d like to do to him. He liked leading them along, feeding them just enough to keep them coming back for more. He loved setting the time and the place. He liked the look on their faces when they picked him out of a crowd and approached with hunger in their eyes. 

He liked how they sounded when they approached him and asked “Blue Boy?” 

And depending on what he thought of them he’d answer with a yes or a no. 

He liked the way they deflated when he bailed on a meeting. He liked the way they lit up when he nodded his head and instantly they were wrapped around his index finger like a spool of silk ribbon. 

He drifted from encounter to encounter, a string of one night stands left in his wake. He was running from a broken heart that had happened early on out of the gates. Love was a ridiculous fairy tale that got told to children at bedtime and he was no longer a believer in the story. So he tossed the idea out the car window like cigarette ash and left it behind on the black top. 

The press of one body after another kept the empty spot filled and it kept his blood rushing. His feet were incapable of slowing down. He was made to run and he’d become fast over the years. 

Lance sat at the bar, the music loud, the air hot and filled with smoke. The hazy atmosphere painted his favorite picture. Another night, another hole in the wall venue, another round of alcohol bought by admirers staring him down in hopes that their money might just buy him into bed with them. But he wasn’t here to be bought. 

He was hunting. 

And he refused to have his attention dragged from that mission. 

His eyes scanned the room, stopping as he got to the wall of a man. Lance’s lip curled just slightly, pressed against his fourth vodka and tonic. He hoped with all his heart that might be him, the man he’d been exchanging private messages with over the past three days. If not, Lance was about to abandon his prior engagement to chase after the gorgeous male. 

He was huge, broad shoulders and a graceful walk that had Lance’s heart fluttering. 

And then his stormy grey eyes flicked up, pausing on Lance’s lengthy form. The path he cut through the crowd was made clear, he did not waste his time as he approached the gorgeous Omega. Lance was dressed in black jeans that hugged him like a second skin, golden studs lining the pockets. His shirt was sliced into thin frills that hung around his torso, the material only really covering his chest. 

Lance could smell him as soon as he neared. 

The Alpha was  _ heavy,  _ carrying a scent similar to leather and fresh cut wood. Lance sampled it with a hum, deciding whether or not he liked it. 

He did. 

He really,  _ really  _ did. 

The big man finally made it to Lance’s seated position, a smile broke his lips. Lance felt his breath catch, now that was a heartbreaking display of pearly whites.

“Blue Boy?” The Alpha asked.

“Space Daddy?” Lance retorted, nursing his drink slyly. 

The man chuckled at the name. 

“Good choice of username. I wouldn’t mind calling you Daddy sometime, whaddaya say big boy?” Lance purred, his eyes narrowing into murderous little slits. 

The Alpha’s smile only widened at the sound of Lance’s voice. He could smell that the Omega was all venom. He could see how dangerous he was just in the way he moved, in the way his lips clasped around the side of his drink. Taking a bite of him would surely result in an early demise…and Shiro couldn’t have wanted the poison more. He’d gladly take the inevitable death if it meant getting his hands on the pretty, slim, little thing. 

He wasn’t very seasoned in this, the way it all worked. His love life had been…lacking and fueled by a whim here he was. Lance was obviously  _ vastly  _ more experienced in the game. Before Shiro could even ask the rules the Omega was pulling him by the hand. He would have been lying had he said he’d tried not to follow. He’d pranced along the other man’s pace as eager as a bright eyed young thing.

The exhilaration was a bright thing as it seeped into his veins.

The rickety door to the bathroom stall slammed closed, rattling the adjoining ones loudly. The music pulsed in through the walls from the club outside, droning, booming, like a heartbeat…only lower. The sound thrummed in Lance’s head, through his bones, sinking into his flesh. He lived for it. He chased the smell of cigarette smoke, the touch of another’s palms on his form. This Alpha’s palms would do. They were big and calloused and slightly more gentle than Lance was first expecting.

Most Alphas took the offer and ran with it, pressing him mean and hard into whatever surface they could. This one didn’t.

The big man leaned over Lance, the Omega’s hands steadied against the bathroom stall. The young man rotated his hips backward, teasing them against the Alpha’s groin, teeth buried between his puffy little pillows.

“What’s your name?” The Alpha husked into his ear.

Lance sneered.

Formalities? So that was the kind of Alpha he was.

Lance rolled his eyes. Normally, Blue was enough of a title…but something in him possessed the young man to give away his real name. He wasn’t sure why it felt like he needed to.

“It’s Lance.” The Omega purred backward, rocking his taut little rear into the crotch of the Alpha’s jeans.

He could feel him growing hard through the material.

“Shiro.” The Alpha replied.

Lance ran the sound of it through his teeth.

It had a nice ring.

Not that it mattered.

Their timer had already begun, the sand rushing to the bottom, he’d get what he wanted and then he’d never hear that name again. Just like always. He was selfish in his pleasure, only staying long enough to gather what he needed and then his feet would be hitting the floor once more. He was fast. They couldn’t catch him, couldn’t keep up. He would remain the one night stand they would dream about when fucking someone else. The intruder of many wet dreams to come and late night fantasies.

That’s how he liked it.

That’s how he kept it.

The Alpha careened over him like a great shadow, so much bigger than his slim built frame, large arms cradling him, fingers roaming the expanse of his stomach. One of his arms was prosthetic. Lance hummed at the realization. He’d not even noticed it at first. He’d been too preoccupied with the Alpha’s strong jaw and perfect cheekbones.

False fingers dipped below his beltline, playing in soft brown hairs. Lance hummed out an appreciative little noise. He liked that. This Alpha wasn’t so forward and if Lance didn’t know better he’d have thought the other man might have his pleasure in mind. Most times he didn’t care. He just wanted a primal fuck, that was good enough. He didn’t need the soft touches or the attention to his own state of arousal.

But then the Alpha’s big digits were massaging him through his jet black skinny jeans and he couldn’t keep himself from wanting more of that.

Shiro kissed the back of his neck and the press of warmth had electricity vibrating through Lance’s skeleton.

The Alpha pushed his mouth to the shell of Lance’s ear.

“Can I fuck you?” He husked, grinding big hips into the round of Lance’s ass.

Lance snorted.

It was pretty obvious he’d already wordlessly answered that question. But the seeking of consent set something off within him…something he’d not addressed in a long time. He was used to being a toy. He wanted to be a toy. Being outright asked was…different.

Lance would humor him.

“Yeah.” Lance huffed cheekily.

The rustle of pants being shoved downward was music on Lance’s ears. He eagerly undid his own, sliding the tight material over his thighs. The rip of a foil wrapper, the snap of a condom, it had Lance shuddering.

The Alpha was gentle upon entry, allowing Lance to adjust and that killed Lance inside. The pleasure of the care went straight to his erection. He really wasn’t sure why. He liked it hard, he liked it merciless…normally he’d be annoyed by this point. He hadn’t come here to fuck around, he’d come here to get off…but the slow motions had a blaze burning in his eyes. The Alpha pressed in and dragged back out and Lance couldn’t stop the moan from tumbling off his tongue. A genuine one, real and sudden and unsettlingly good.

The lethargic nature of the Alpha’s pace had Lance rising to the tips of his toes. Every thrust was like molten gold, feeding the Omega’s flame just a little bit more. He dangled everything just out of Lance’s reach, giving it to him in small increments, keeping him hungry for more.

Lance’s fingers spread out over the flat space he was pressed against, the Alpha’s pace increasing just slightly. He’d lost track of time, he’d drifted away from the music, he’d forgotten his own rules. Get off fast, leave faster. Now he was shoved into the bathroom stall and he never wanted it to end. Every lazy pump of the Alpha’s hips had him dripping more pre-cum down onto the off-white tile floor.

Shiro’s human fingers pushed up Lance’s loose little crop top, watching his cock disappear once more into the Omega’s tight entrance. The sinewy young man was warm and soft around him, as tight as a new shoe. His eyes dawdled over the plains of caramel skin, wandering downward, stopping when he got to Lance’s lower back. The stretch of flesh was decorated in ink, a blue lion, matching perfectly with his chosen username.

“I like your tattoo.” Shiro growled as he shoved his cock into Lance sternly, forcing the Omega forward.

Lance mewled lowly, loving the stretch of the other man, loving the sound of his voice…so low and full of gravel.

“Thanks. I like your dick.” Lance giggled wispily.

There was a deep laugh from behind him.

And then Shiro’s fingers were reaching around Lance’s skinny hips. His ring of digits curled around the breadth of the man’s cock. He winced and purred and bucked into the offered grasp. Shiro’s palm was tight around him, he wasn’t about to refuse the offer. He stroked him in time with every thrust, the perfect recipe to tilt Lance right over the edge. Lance could hardly prepare for his finish before it was rushing through him. It came on fast and loud, like a car crash through his skull. He cried the Alpha’s name and it tasted disgustingly  _ right.  _ He came against the black stall, unashamed and obscene.

Shiro’s pace was sloppy as he fucked the other man through his orgasm, pulling Lance down onto his cock with every motion.

“Can I knot you?”

His voice was so heady, so lustful.

That was the number one rule.  _ Never  _ let them knot. That only meant it was that much longer Lance had to stick around after. That hindered everything. He would be gone in seconds afterward and he couldn’t very well do that if he was hanging off an Alpha’s fucking knot for half an hour.

But Lance’s head was full of clouds.

“Fuck, please, please knot me.” He huffed out languidly.

_ What the hell was he doing? _

The feeling of the Alpha swelling within him, pressing up into his core, groaning as he met his end, hips shaking as he held the Omega to him…it was _ ecstasy _ . There was no conversation between them for a long while, just breathless sounds interrupted by the slam of the occasional other stall. And for once…Lance didn’t feel like running. The Alpha’s fingers stroked across his shoulder blade, one still wrapped around his chest to hold him steady. Every touch was soft, ghosting over Lance’s skin in a way that was  _ almost  _ loving.

Even after Shiro finally deflated enough to pull free, the two men righting themselves sheepishly…Lance still didn’t have the urge to run. He stayed. He had several drinks with the Alpha. They wandered to a twenty four hour diner and still his feet weren’t twitching to make his swift, usual exit. They laughed over plates of breakfast in the early hours of the morning. He found himself hanging on the curve of Shiro’s smile. He was soft spoken, but charming and funny…

Lance gave him his number at the end of the night.

Another strike against his carefully written rules.

He’d already broken so many he figured why stop now?

Lance awoke the next morning sore, hips bruised form the Alpha’s firm grip…and there was a warmth in his chest that was…concerning. He swatted at his bedside table, snatching his cellphone off the furniture. He rolled in his bed, tired eyes blinking open as he looked over the screen.

He had one message there to greet him.

_ “I had a lot of fun last night. Whenever you get up, would you like to get some coffee?” _

Lance paused, reading the text several times over.

The message was unnerving, terrifying even.

Maybe he wanted to be scared.

Lance’s fingers danced across the keyboard.

_ “Sure. What time stud?” _

He hit send.

His eyes darted to the ominous little app on his phone, his hunting grounds…

He clicked the icon and deleted it.


End file.
